10 Miles High
by Nyuufish
Summary: Harry's world gets torn apart and he finds himself clueless and wanting. So when the winds of change comes along, he takes the chance to change life as he knows it drastically. SLASH! Post OotP and therefore AU.


**10 Miles High  
**

**-**

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters within. They all belong to J.K Rowling. The only thing that's mine is the plot.

**A/N: **This is the edited re-written version I've been talking about some time, now turned into a new story. Now it's finally begun! If you've read The Only before, you will recognize some parts in this chapter, perhaps the next. All else is new!

-.-.-

Chapter One

Harry lugged his trunk onto the train and into an empty compartment, then stretched and sat down ungracefully on the worn seats. He let out a long sigh as he relaxed against the window, his head resting peacefully against the cool glass.

This summer had been intense. Very little was the same as when he left this train at the end of last term. Everything had changed, in Harry's opinion, for the better. What others thought about the changes remained to be seen.

Though, despite the ups-and-downs and pros versus cons, it had been the best time of his life. It had also been the most tiring - hence the huge yawn that made his jaw emit some weird pop-crunching noise. Grimacing at the strange feeling, Harry leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes, remembering.

-.-.-

Harry sat on his bed, staring out the open window of number 4, Privet Drive. Three weeks had passed since the end of the term and he was bored and frustrated. With the only chance at human interaction being his extremely freaked out Aunt and Uncle and a cousin who cringed and emitted weird high-pitched noises whenever Harry joined them, this was quite comprehensible. To avoid said relatives he had spent the majority of his time in his room - behind a firmly closed door.

His Uncle may have been temporarily intimidated by the Order members' little talk on Kings Cross, but even that was not enough to make them let Hedwig fly as she wanted _("What would the neighbours say if they saw that ruddy thing?!"). _She was firmly locked inside her cage, only to be let out when Harry had to clean the cage of her droppings or send the required every-third-day-letter.

Vernon was very careful to mention the punctuality of the post every third day at breakfast and then discreetly put Hedwig's cage key on the table and Harry had taken the hint.

He usually wrote something along the line of;

_Coast is clear and I'm fine, how about you guys?_

_Harry_

Their answer was almost as nondescript as Harry's letter. The variations could differ, but the message was always the same.

_Everyone is fine._

_Stay safe. Constant vigilance. _

He hadn't gotten any other letters so far from neither Hermione nor Ron, but now that he knew of the need for secrecy it didn't bother him as much. These two weeks into the summer, Harry felt he had established a routine.

Every day, he woke in the early hours of the morning, he picked up a random book from the pile he had created next to his bed, he read until Aunt Petunia yelled at him to eat breakfast, he went downstairs, went back upstairs, fed Hedwig, read some more, worked on his summer homework, ate the sandwich that Aunt Petunia put by his door, stared at the ceiling, used the bathroom, went outside in the back yard and read some more, ate dinner, read some more, fell asleep from sheer exhaustion and woke in the early hours of the morning, usually from a nightmare he couldn't remember. Repeat – with simple variations – and this was a very precise description of Harry's life.

Sometimes though, when the room and staying indoors became too much and overwhelmed him, he went outside for a walk. He would walk for hours, just along the outer streets of Little Whinging and let his mind work by its own.

He often thought about Sirius during these walks. He missed him, a lot. He felt incredibly guilty, even though he knew it wasn't his fault, not really. He knew that experienced fully adult wizards had faced what he faced and fared no better, but reason didn't matter much. He still felt horrible.

He thought a lot about Voldemort too, and worried about the future. He realized that he had no idea how to handle the now fully restored and extremely powerful Dark Lord. He also realized that he could do nothing about it the way he was now. Also, there was that one thing...

_`The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not . And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives . The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies .'_

Harry never had a perfect memory, but he couldn't forget those words. He thought of them as little as possible, yet they always hovered in the back of his head.

It was either him or Voldemort, living or surviving. That plain truth was not a surprise in itself, somehow Harry felt it had always been that way, they had always been connected. He'd always known it would come down to him in the end. That, however, did not mean he felt comfortable with it.

Quite the opposite actually.

Because even he realized his luck had to run out sometime. And he wasn't really feeling up to putting his luck and half-finished school education against Voldemort's years and years of professional (no use trying to deny that one) use.

Which meant he had to study - study hard to even stand a chance at survival. He had to practice and study and practice practice practice if he wanted to have even a slight chance at being the living one. The only problem was finding some kind of tutor or teacher, since he knew he'd be hard pressed to doing all he needed to do without some form of help.

Well, he supposed, he could always teach himself, worst case scenario. He felt assured of the fact that Hermione would help him if he told her what it was for. Well, if it included studying, he'd bet she'd help him even if it killed her.

His only problem was that his educational resources at Privet Drive was very limited, something that really got on Harry's nerves. He felt kind of useless simply sitting at home and not doing anything more than reading old schoolbooks.

In the middle of Harry doing absolutely nothing, he finally got a letter from someone, and from Dumbledore no less.

It came in the early morning, delivered by Fawkes himself, who landed gracefully on the windowsill and dropped the letter only to disappear a moment later in a burst of flames. That wasn't the surprise however, though the event in itself was a rather uncommon occurrence. The surprise came from the message the letter contained;

Hermione wasn't coming back to Hogwarts next fall.

The letter shortly explained in Dumbledore's elegant handwriting that due to recent events, her parents had decided to keep their girl out of harms way.

With his head still reeling, two new owls arrived carrying letters. It wasn't hard to guess who they were from, as the tawny brown had the look of a hire-owl and Pig was easily recognized. He gave the owls some food and opened Hermione's letter first.

_Harry! _

_I suppose you've heard what's going on by now. I just wanted to tell you not to worry and to not feel guilty. I'm doing my best to convince my parents that the wizarding world is perfectly safe, but they seem to have had enough. They just enrolled me into the school where I live, I'm going to start summer school next week to catch up to all the years I've missed. I'm going to try to stay in touch. I can't be sure how much I'll be able to write, since my parents are not too fond of all my 'witch-stuff' right now, as Dad calls it, but I'll do my best. _

_Oh, and be nice to Ron, even though he's going to be a complete idiot about all this. I don't blame you in the slightest and I never will, and neither should he. _

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry stared at the letter for some time, the pieces putting themselves together. Oh. Right. The Department of Mysteries. He could see how that might seem a little much for parents, especially muggle ones who didn't know much, if anything, about wizardry. He could practically hear Hermione trying to talk to them.

"Well, you see, Mum and Dad, we went after Harry's godfather, because we thought he'd been captured by the most evil wizard in the wizarding world. You know that Dark Lord Voldemort that tried to kill Harry as a baby and came back to life last year? Yes, him. And we couldn't talk to any teachers about it, because the Headmistress was this awful toad of a woman who loved torturing students by making them write lines using their own blood, so we flew there ourselves on horses that you can only see if you've seen death, which means I didn't actually see it for the whole of our flight from Scotland to London. Then when we got there it was a trap and we had to fight through that evil wizard's best fighters, some of which recently escaped from prison, but we managed okay, considering that they were fully adult criminal dark wizards and we were only five teenagers. Then our teachers came to rescue us, so everything went fine, really, except some minor injuries. Only Harry's godfather died. So you don't have to worry, it's perfectly safe, I promise."

Yeah. That might be awkward.

With a slight frown on his face, Harry picked up Ron's letter. After reading what Hermione said, he had a feeling this was not going to be pleasant. He was right. Ron's handwriting was almost illegible with all the angry slashes he'd made with the quill and at some places he'd even ripped the parchment. Harry braced himself and started reading.

_IT'S ALL YOUR BLOODY FAULT!_

_WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE SO BLOODY STUBBORN AND NOT LISTEN TO HERMIONE! YOU KNOW SHE'S ALWAYS BLOODY RIGHT! AND KNOW, YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO LISTEN TO HER, WILL YOU, CAUSE SHE WON'T BLOODY BE THERE! SHE TOLD YOU! AREN'T WE GONNA CHECK WITH THE PROFESSORS, HARRY? ARE YOU SURE THIS ISN'T JUST A FAKE-VISION, HARRY?_

_SHE IS ALWAYS RIGHT! WHY DIDN'T YOU LISTEN TO HER?! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!_

_DON'T TALK TO ME EVER AGAIN._

_I HATE YOU. IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT._

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. He really didn't have the strength to deal with this right now, not when he had many other things higher up on his priority list. Like Voldemort.

Harry had realized that when faced with some things that could and probably would lead to certain death, peoples view of life changes. Harry knew his point of view had changed. Some things that he'd previously thought unnecessary and even bothersome, like studying, was suddenly worth its weight in gold.

And some things, like being angry or frustrated, took too much time and effort.

Now, of course Harry realized that he still was angry, at Voldemort and Dumbledore, Bellatrix and Umbridge, and he was frustrated, with his life and his situation and his own ineptitude.

He also realized that being angry or frustrated wouldn't get him anywhere. If he was going to kill Voldemort, he had to stay focused, keep it together. He'd also have to work his arse off.

Which know looked like it was going to be even more bothersome, now that Hermione wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts this year. He'd have to do all his research himself, and asking her to tutor him would be pointless. She'd be busy enough with her new school. This meant he'd have to figure out some way to get the things he needed himself.

He turned over her parchment and wrote on the back;

_Hermione,_

_I'm so sorry. You were right, I should have listened to you. I hope you'll manage to convince your parents that Hogwarts is okay, though I can't blame them for wanting to keep you safe. _

_And yeah, Ron's being a prat. I'll just ignore him until he gets over it, as usual. _

_By the way, I need your help. I need to get a lot of books and I need them fast. Is there some wizarding equivalent to muggle post-order? _

_Take care,_

_Harry_

He sealed up the parchment and gave it to the owl, who lazily took it in its beak and then flapped out the window. Then he turned to Pig.

"You won't be getting anything back from me, so just go back, okay?"

Pig hooted loudly, making Harry wince and thank the gods that the Dursleys were out shopping, and speeded out the window.

A strange silence fell on the room as Harry stared after the rapidly disappearing owls. He felt a bit odd and he knew things were about to change, big time. School without Hermione? An angry Ron without Hermione trying to make peace? Starting a new way of life with serious studies and training? Dealing with Voldemort and the prophecy? It was going to be tough. Hell, even handling Malfoy without his friends was going to be a pain in the ass.

Harry sighed and put his head into his hands. How did this happen?

It took two days of growing frustration and long walks until he received Hermione's answer. Obviously there was something like post-order, and Hermione was appalled that Harry had never heard of this, since this was how she got all of her books for 'light reading' – Harry had rolled his eyes with a smile on his face - and that she was very happy for him that he'd finally come to his senses. She told him to ignore Ron and that she hoped he'd put some extra effort into his homework now that she'd be unable to help him.

And at the end she wrote something that made his whole life and present mess seem a little bit brighter.

"_I know it'll be rough for you, with Ron being difficult and with me being absent. And I know you'll be able to pull through. I believe in you and I know that what ever you decide to do, you can do it. Any time you need me, don't hesitate to write. I'll miss you."_

And it was with those words of encouragement and a hefty compendium of Hermione's notes that Harry set out to learn.

It took him very few days before he got fed up.

All the new things he learned just disappeared from his memory after five minutes, and he didn't really understand anything that he read. He'd always just done the magic, he'd never put any real thought into the theory behind it, the how's and why's. Harry kept Hermione's notes out next to his books for cross-referencing, and even with the tidy explanations he had a hard time grasping the theory for much of the spellwork that the books mentioned.

The frustration he felt knew no bounds. He didn't understand this stuff, and if he couldn't understand this, how was he supposed to learn everything else he needed to know? This was supposed to be the easy part!

In the midst of the brain-chaos, his birthday arrived.

As always, according to tradition, Harry stayed awake until midnight on the 30th of July, counting down the seconds until his birthday arrived. Only this time he simply glanced up at his watch from the Charms book he was currently reading, then continued struggling.

Therefore, he was not really prepared when all the owls arrived. Luckily, the window was open, so he only had to watch as several owls sailed through his window and landed on any available space in his cluttered room. Most of them landed on his bed.

After tying off the parcels and envelopes most of the owl's left, only one medium-sized dark owl stayed behind, one that Harry didn't recognize. He decided to read that letter first, since the owl seemed to be waiting for him to answer.

He took the letter from the owl, whose piercing yellow eyes made him feel slightly uncomfortable, and read the first line. And read it again. And again.

_Hello Potter. _

_You're one hard person to get hold of. If you haven't already burnt this to a crisp I would hope that you finish reading this to the very end. It'll be worth your time. Promise. I am going to be painfully honest with you, since I figured that would be the only way these words would penetrate your thick Gryffindor skull._

_Firstly, I want to thank you. _

_I can realize that this might seem ironic to you. But the fact is that I actually have something to thank you for. And that would not be putting my Father in prison, nor making my Mother and I suffer several unpleasant backlashes of the Malfoy name's recent tarnish. _

_It would be for giving me a choice. _

_See, I was brought up in a very special way. Pureblood supremacy, kill-the-mudbloods, get married to someone you don't like to carry on the family name, and all that. _

_But as I've come to realize – I never wanted that for myself. I understand that this is not the picture you have of me, and I can only try to explain that I've been under very strict pressure. The expectations put on pureblood heirs are often more extensive than people would believe. So, for giving me the chance to choose for myself, I thank you. _

_Better savour it, Potter – because it does not happen often._

_Secondly, I'd like to apologize for my behaviour these past five years. Or well no, I don't want to apologize. The fact is that it's the only part of my life I've been enjoying lately, so I guess I'll have to thank you for that too. Very gratifying mental stimulation, you could call it. _

_However, I do know that you probably haven't seen it that way, so the apology would be for making you upset, then. _

_And thirdly, I want you to know that I won't follow the Dark Lord. The reasons for that are numerous and valid, and if you want to, I'll give you the whole list sometime. But I will not make him a lord over me, no matter what else I choose in my life. _

_This puts me in a rather awkward position, since I know you hate my guts and we're no longer fighting on different sides. So I'd like to propose a truce. _

_You can put your chin back up now, Potter. Yes, I said truce.  
_

_Please reply as soon as possible with the questions I know must be making your poor Gryffindor skull feel thicker than usual, since I'd hate for you to be uncomfortable.  
_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Lord Draco Malfoy  
_

Harry did indeed drop his jaw.

And then proceeded in doing some very inventive internal swearing. Not pausing long to think, he grabbed a quill lying on his desk, dipped it in an open inkwell, flipped the parchment over and scribbled;

_  
What the fuck, Malfoy?_

_Confusedly,  
HP_

_  
_  
Not pausing to think it through, Harry gave the letter to the waiting owl, who pierced him with his creepy yellow eyes one more time before opening its wings and taking off. Harry stared after the departing avian, feeling like he just entered the twilight-zone.

**TBC.**

Well, there you have it.

:3 Please review and tell me how/if you liked it or if you didn't.


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